


How Little He Knows Of Us

by afteriwake



Series: All Of Time And Space [23]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:52:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The differences between Sherlock and Mycroft were never so large until it came down to what love and honor meant to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Little He Knows Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> So this just did not go the way I intended. If you like Mycroft you might want to skip this fic. He’s an absolute bastard in it. But…yeah. This started one way and just went really in a whole other direction, but I’m still very pleased with it. Plus? I think I might write more Bastard!Mycroft later. It’s really fun.
> 
> Also! This fic won an award for Best Crossover Fic for the Sherlock Awards on Tumblr, and I got a nifty graphic. See?

He disliked taking cases from Mycroft, but sometimes those were almost as satisfying as the ones from Lestrade. But taking a case from Mycroft usually meant having to spend time with Mycroft, and that was something he liked to avoid if at all possible. But he couldn’t always have John running interference between them, and today was one of the days where he had to be in the same room as his brother, much to his dismay.

It had only been a week since he had figured out his feelings for Amelia were in fact love, and thinking about her and her reaction to his announcement and the rather enjoyable twenty-four hours they spent mostly in bed afterwards was the only thing getting him through this encounter. But he must have been thinking about it too much because suddenly he felt a hard slap to the back of his head. Putting his hand where the pain was he whipped around and saw Mycroft standing there behind him, a rolled up newspaper in his hand. “What on Earth has you so distracted?” Mycroft asked.

“Nothing,” Sherlock replied, glaring at his brother.

Mycroft’s eyes narrowed as comprehension dawned on him. “It’s _her_ , isn’t it? Amelia Pond? What has she done to you to get you so…stupid?”

“She hasn’t done anything, not that the state of my relationship with her is any of your business,” he growled in response, turning back to the file Mycroft had given him when he arrived at his office.

“Then what have you done?” he asked.

“None of your business.”

Mycroft’s eyes widened. “Oh dear God. Are you in _love_ with her?”

“None. Of. Your. Business,” Sherlock said, enunciating each word through gritted teeth.

Mycroft shook his head. “Caring is a disadvantage. You know that. And you know sentiment will only cause it to hurt more when she inevitably tires of you and moves on.”

“She has been in love with me since she was nine years old,” Sherlock said, giving up on this not becoming the preeminent topic of discussion for the day. “I don’t see that changing at all in the near future.”

He watched Mycroft roll his eyes and Sherlock had to fight the sudden urge to smash his fist across his brother’s face. “She’s famous, Sherlock, and growing more well known by the day. I don’t even have to enlist people to follow you anymore. I just read the tabloids. She works with men far more handsome than you. One day she will tire of you, and you will be left a heartbroken mess.”

Sherlock had had enough. He stood up and stood directly in front of Mycroft, his face nearly inches from his. He realized that feeling this level of anger was irrational, but Mycroft needed to understand exactly what Amelia meant to him. “Listen to me closely, Mycroft. Do not sleight her honor in any way or by God I will slug you across the face. In the entire time you knew her growing up you treated her as an annoyance. You fobbed her off on me whenever possible. And I got to know her very well over the years. She has been my friend, my ally, my confidante and now she is my girlfriend and my lover, and if you cannot accept this then I suggest you find someone else to solve this case and stay the hell out of my life, because if push came to shove I would chose Amelia over you and anyone else in my family without the slightest hesitation.”

Mycroft stared at him, his eyes slightly wide, and then he took a step back and adjusted first his tie, and then his cufflinks. “If you feel this passionately towards her you should marry her,” he said, looking at his brother dead in the eye.

“Whether I choose to marry her or not is none of your concern,” Sherlock said, not breaking eye contact.

“Mummy would disapprove.”

“Do you honestly think I care about her opinion?” Sherlock said. “She hates Amelia, has hated her since she was young and started talking about that mysterious Doctor who landed on her shed. She thought she was mental, just like everyone else in Leadworth.”

“So did you,” Mycroft pointed out.

“I never thought she was mental. Highly imaginative, yes, but nothing more.” He had to be careful now. As far as Mycroft was concerned, the Doctor was not a flesh and blood alien who would occasionally come to call for an adventure. Mycroft had no clue that Amelia’s imaginary friend wasn’t as imaginary as everyone believed. “And she outgrew it long ago, at any rate, so what does it matter now?”

“You’ve already said she’s your lover. Have you been careful?”

Sherlock blinked. While glad that they were no longer talking about the Doctor, the sudden switch to his sex life was rather jarring. “That’s none of your business.”

“On the contrary, it is. I will not have an illegitimate child bring disgrace to the Holmes name.”

Sherlock shook his head. “You’re concerned with the Holmes name,” he said in an incredulous voice. “You’re so concerned with the name that you think it gives you the right to run roughshod over my life. In some cases it’s been for good but this…this goes too far.”

“Have you been careful?” Mycroft asked insistently.

“Yes. Other than the first time we were together, yes, we have been careful. Don’t worry, Mycroft, there isn’t any illegitimate offspring coming forth to ruin the good old Holmes name,” Sherlock said snidely.

“If something happens, however…”

“Oh, Christ, if something happens I will ask her to marry me. Is that what you want to hear, Mycroft?”

“I want your promise that you actually will.”

Sherlock shook his head. “I promise I will ask.”

“Thank you.”

“I will not force her or coerce her into agreeing, however. And if you think you can convince her to do the right thing by the Holmes name if she does end up pregnant and we’re not married, then I wish you luck. The fires will go out in Hell before she’ll agree to do something just because you ask.”

“Yes, she does have that impertinent streak,’ he said with a slight nod. “There are always incentives, however.”

“She already makes more money than you do, Mycroft, and she isn’t the type to want power and authority. What do you honestly think you can offer her that she’ll want?”

“Everyone has a price,” Mycroft said.

“Not her.”

“It’s a fact of life, Sherlock.”

“ _Not her,_ ” he said. He slammed the file down on Mycroft’s desk. “Find someone else to solve this case for you, Mycroft. I’m done.” Sherlock headed towards the door.

“I can always have you brought up on charges for the Moriarty problem,” Mycroft said urbanely.

Sherlock froze. “You wouldn’t.”

“Do not try and cross me, little brother,” Mycroft replied. “I’ll find someone else to work this case for me, but do not end up on my bad side. It will end badly for everyone involved.”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” Sherlock said, turning to face Mycroft as he put his hand on the doorknob to leave.

“Sometimes that’s what it takes to get to my position,” Mycroft replied. “Remember this conversation, Sherlock, and do not cross me.”

Sherlock opened the door and resisted the strong temptation to slam it as he left. He knew his brother had changed over the years, but this…this was new. But he did not doubt that his brother would do exactly what he had threatened if things did not go according to whatever plan resided in his head. He got outside and hailed a cab. He gave Amelia’s address without thinking, and settled in for the trip, thoughts stewing in his head.

Her car was outside the flat, and he paid the driver and got out. He strode up to the door and knocked. He tried not to bang on the door but he wasn’t completely successful, and Amy looked concerned when she opened up the door. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, instead going up to her and kissing her deeply. She melted against him and kissed him back, matching the intensity and then raising it slightly. This was what he needed, he thought. He needed her. She was the best thing to happen to him, and she would be the thing that kept him sane. He pulled away after a few moments and just held her close, relishing the feel of her against him. “I had a conversation with my brother,” he said, his lips near her ear.

“I take it it didn’t go well,” she said. “What was the topic?”

“Our relationship,” he said.

She pulled away. “How badly did it go?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“He threatened to have me brought up on charges over the Moriarty incident if I ever decide to cross him.”

“That…that _bastard._ ” She shook her head. “What got him to that point?”

“A conversation on what should happen should you get pregnant by accident,” he said. “He was going to bribe you to marry me.”

Amelia got a look on her face that he couldn’t quite pin down. “He’s apparently grown dafter over the years,” she said, and then he realized she looked faintly amused. “Like I’d need to be bribed to marry you. Especially if I was pregnant with your child.”

Sherlock blinked slightly. “You’d marry me?”

“Of course.” She reached up and touched his face. “I love you, Sherlock. I’ve loved you for most of my life, even when I was with other guys. Even when I was engaged to Rory. Sometimes the love got buried deep down, but it was always there. One day I would like to marry you. I would love to be Mrs. Amelia Holmes. I just know that right now we’re not at that point. I mean, you only just admitted you loved me a week ago! So not now. But someday. And if I happen to get pregnant, then we’ll just have a long engagement until after I give birth, give you time to get used to being a father before you become a husband.”

He looked at her and kissed her again, this time more tenderly, and when he pulled away he rested his forehead against hers. “Mycroft doesn’t know you at all.”

“I just think he doesn’t understand love,” she said with a chuckle. “And don’t bother trying to explain it to him. You’ll just waste your breath.” She gave him a quick kiss. “Now come on into the kitchen. I was just going to start making lunch for me, and I can feed you, too. Unless you’d like to go somewhere else first.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he said with a slight smile, letting go of her.

“Yes you do,” she said with a wide grin, heading into the living area. “Don’t ever think you don’t deserve me. I’ll just have to prove you wrong every time.”

He watched her, relaxed for the first time since the conversation started in Mycroft’s office. It may take a long time, but he hoped one day he could put into words just how special and important she was to him. He knew she deserved to know, and he was going to make it a point to tell her now. For now, though, he would let his actions show what he couldn’t verbalize.


End file.
